Of Butterflies and Honesty
by ZoeJoy24
Summary: When Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic, Merlin of course assumes the worse and tries to run before Arthur can respond to his discovery. But his magic has other ideas...
1. Chapter 1

In his heart of hearts, Merlin knew that, should it ever come down to it, if it were a choice between Arthur's life and keeping his magic secret, Merlin would chose Arthur's life immediately and without hesitation. Thankfully it wasn't a choice he'd really had to make yet. Yes, he'd saved Arthur's life countless times using his magic, but he'd always been able to do it secretly and without discovery. Really, he was becoming quite good at it, which was only the case because of the ridiculous number of times that Arthur had nearly been killed. Merlin always hoped (perhaps even daydreamed, once or twice) that if or when Arthur ever did discover his secret, it would be when Merlin had just saved his life, and possibly all of his men, in some heroic manner with a mighty spell of some sort, and that Arthur would immediately see how Merlin has served him and protected him faithfully, and perhaps knight him on the spot. Of course things never did quite turn out the way Merlin imagined them to be. In reality the moment when Arthur finally learns the truth is much more fitting for Merlin's life anyways, something that would only happen to him.

They're in the woods, a common enough occurrence, and alone, which happens less frequently, but is not unusual. After pausing for a simple lunch packed by the cooks in Camelot, Arthur leaves to relieve himself, and Merlin is left alone in a small glade where he can practically hear the magic in the earth singing to him. It's Spring and everything seems to be in bloom, full of color and light and beauty. He's sitting in the grass, hands dug into the earth to feel the soil beneath his fingers and to let the energy of all the new life seep into his skin. With his face raised to the sky, soaking in the midday sun, it happens almost without his consent. He lets his magic go, lets it seep back into the earth without thinking of the consequences. The glade fills with color as countless butterflies rise from the grass into the sky, created from nothing but Merlin's magic and the energy of spring that is all around him. Merlin opens his eyes to take in the sight, smiling and laughing and the beauty magic can create. He stands, and spins around, hands outstretched and eyes glowing gold as the butterflies begin to fly in a circle around the glade, following his movements.

And then Arthur is there, in front of him, at the edge of the glade but close enough to see the golden light in Merlin's eyes, to see how the butterflies follow his movements. Merlin stops so suddenly, taking a step back in surprise and falling so that he's half sitting, half laying, leaning back on his elbows as he looks up at his Prince. Arthur looks around the glade once before turning his eyes back to Merlin, stalking forward.

"What is this?" he hisses out, eyes flashing, daring Merlin to lie.

Merlin backs away, pushing with his heels and elbows. He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn't know what to say. _Beauty, life, love, _flash through his mind but the only answer he knows Arthur wants is _magic_ or _sorcery_ and he can't bring himself to say it, can't bring himself to say 'it's me, all me.' But Arthur knows, now, of course. How can he not?

"You, you have magic?" Arthur asks, voice low and dangerous.

Merlin pushes himself slowly to his feet, feeling very much like prey in the face of a hunter. He holds his hands out in front of him, open in surrender as he searches Arthur's face. Arthur stops, waits, eyeing him warily.

"Arthur, please… Sire. I can… you don't understand…" he says, breath catching and tears falling silently as he sees the anger in Arthur's eyes, and he knows then that it's over.

Arthur could never forgive this, forgive him this betrayal. Merlin should have told him, or should have been more careful if nothing else because now, now he's ruined everything. Arthur is stalking towards him again, Merlin can see how his hand his moving closer to his sword hilt and knows he has to run, because he can't let Arthur kill him but he certainly won't fight him. Merlin knows that in Camelot sorcerers die, they burn, and he turns and runs, because he doesn't want to see the look in Arthur's eyes as he is executed him as the traitor he is.

"Merlin, stop!" Arthur calls out behind him, but Merlin doesn't listen.

He runs through the trees, runs faster than he ever has in his life because he knows Arthur is faster and stronger and if he catches him Merlin will die. He can sense exactly where Arthur is as he chases him because his magic, his _damned magic_, has always responded to Arthur in some way when they are together, and Merlin has sometimes thought that his magic liked Arthur more than him, which seems to be the case because as he runs he can feel a tug, almost like a force that tries to hold him back and slow him down but no, _no_ he can't stop because it can't end like this and _nonono_…

It has to be magic, because Merlin would have definitely seen that giant root sticking out of the ground despite the tears that cloud his eyes and disrupt his vision. He trips, falls forward and lands hard, the impact knocking the little air he had from his lungs and he feels a sharp pain in his wrist from falling on it, and then Arthur is there and he can't breathe again because he's so afraid and he doesn't want to die.

It's a desperate attempt but he can't stop, has to try, and he begins to crawl, to push himself forward with his feet and knees, pulling with his one good arm, sobbing as he tries to escape. Arthur grabs his jacket, jerking him back roughly, trying to get him to stop and Merlin cries out, in pain and frustration and anger at himself for being so careless, and in fear.

"Arthur, Arthur, no, don't kill me, just let me explain," he begs as Arthur tries to lift him to his feet.

"Merlin, stop fighting, dammit!" Arthur demands but Merlin pushes away, falls back to the ground.

Arthur follows, sinking to kneel next to Merlin and keeping a firm grasp on his arm while Merlin keeps babbling.

"Please, please don't burn me Arthur. I don't want to… not that way. You don't have to bring me back, don't tell your father just, you can do it here, just please, no fire." Merlin pleads. "Please…"

Arthur can't believe what he is hearing, can't believe that Merlin is begging for his life-not even for his life now, but for a quicker death than on a pyre, begging Arthur to kill him there rather than face his father's judgment.

The whole situation is a mess, and really, Arthur is can't wrap his head around any of it. But he knows what he saw in the glade, knows there is only one explanation for it, and if nothing else Merlin's reaction only proved to him his suspicion-that Merlin has magic, practices magic, using it openly for…

For what? Not destruction or deception as his father has always claimed sorcerers do. No, the foolish boy was playing with butterflies in the woods, dancing like a child.

Of course he'd been angry when he'd seen Merlin use magic. He was angry that Merlin had deceived him for so long, Arthur had trusted him implicitly and Merlin had been lying to him the whole time. But to think that Merlin would believe that Arthur would kill him, would run from him in fear.

Arthur doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget the look of terror on Merlin's face when he'd fled from the glade. To think that Merlin could be that afraid of him created an ache in Arthur's heart that was enough to override the sense of betrayal he felt.

It wasn't much of a surprise when Merlin stumbled and fell as he ran away from Arthur. The prince was actually out of breath after their run through the woods-Merlin could move a lot faster than he bothered to do on any normal occasion apparently. Even after he falls he doesn't stop trying to flee, and Arthur wants to scream at him in frustration, to shake some sense into the silly boy but he knows that won't do much good now, with Merlin crying in fear at his feet already. Finally Arthur reaches him grabs the back of his jacket and jerks him to a stop. The action if rougher than he meant it to be, but he's angry and tired of Merlin running from him.

Merlin cries out when Arthur catches him, and Arthur almost lets go because he's afraid he hurt him somehow. Merlin is still crying, holding one of his wrists close to his chest and curling into himself as he begs Arthur not to kill him, pleads for his life. Arthur tries to get him on his feet so he can look him in the eyes, so they can talk about what happened and figure this out. Arthur yells out him, orders him to stop fighting him, but Merlin pushes away, breaking free of Arthur's grip and falling to the ground once more. Arthur follows him, unwilling to let him escape, and pulls him close. Merlin begs, _please, please don't burn me… kill me now…_, his voice wrecked and desperate and Arthur can't take it anymore, his heart is breaking because how could Merlin think that he would ever let him burn, after everything they'd done for each other, and how could he think Arthur could ever kill him himself.

Merlin is shaking as Arthur pulls him into his arms, wrapping one arm around Merlin's skinny chest, pulling him close so that Merlin's back is flush against Arthur's chest, leaving the smaller man no room to escape. Arthur presses the palm of his other hand gently against Merlin's throat, drawing his head back against his shoulder. Merlin stills apart from an occasional tremor which runs through his body. He opens his mouth to speak but Arthur presses his fingers gently against his throat to silence him. It seems to work as Merlin closes his mouth, though Arthur can feel his throat working against his palm.

"Merlin, listen to me," Arthur begins quietly, lips next Merlin's ear, almost touching but not quite.

Merlin sobs, but obeys, nodding slightly in acquiescence.

"I'm not going to kill you, and I'm not going to send you to the pyre, you foolish boy," Arthur says in a rush, unable to keep this simple fact to himself anymore. He can't stand to have Merlin so afraid of him any longer.

Arthur can feel the tension dissipate as Merlin lets out a shocked breath and relaxes into Arthur's grip, his body no longer stiff and trembling.

"You're not?" he whispers.

"No, of course not. How could you even think… Merlin, I would never let anything like that happen to you, and I would never hurt you!" Arthur exclaims.

"But I have… I have magic." Merlin says, tilting his head to meet Arthur's eyes as best he can, to gauge the Prince's response to his outright confession of such treachery.

Arthur follows Merlin's movement with his thumb, stroking along the edge of Merlin's chin and holding him in place as he meets his servants eyes and simply says "I know."

Merlin lets out a shuddering breath and keeps his gaze locked on Arthur, who can see tears beginning to form in his eyes once again.

"Why did you never tell me before?" Arthur wonders aloud, his voice not angry but rather hurt, and maybe even disappointed.

Merlin sinks back into Arthur's embrace, suddenly exhausted from his race through the woods and the emotional toll the past few minutes had wrought on him. He couldn't even fully comprehend all that had changed in only 10 or 15 minutes, it didn't seem real. Another tremor ran through his body, his breath hitching as he started to reply.

"I couldn't risk it, Arthur. I didn't want to risk losing you, to risk having to leave, or, well, burning..."

"Than why do magic at all?" Arthur demanded, confused.

"I can't help it, Arthur," Merlin exclaims, shifting a bit in place to better meet his prince's eyes. "I've been doing magic since I was born. I never learned or studied magic, it just happened."

Arthur sighs, seeing the truth in Merlin's eyes and accepting it as such, at least for that moment.

"If I let you go, do you promise not to run? Will you trust me?" Arthur asks.

Merlin nods, finally looking away as Arthur releases him. Merlin puts some distance between them, but only enough to turn and face Arthur more fully. Arthur keeps one hand wrapped loosely around one of Merlin's wrists, not really restraining him but able to do so should the need arise. Merlin grimaces slightly, the muscles in his arm twitching as he starts to pull away than seems to change his mind. Arthur's first instinct is to hold on tighter, to refuse to let him go, than he remembers the way Merlin had been holding his wrist early and releases his grip.

"Are you all right?" he prompts as Merlin draws his arm back, cradling the injured wrist gently with his other hand.

"Yes, just a sprain," he replies.

"Make sure you have Gauis look at it when we return," Arthur orders, a hint of his commanding, princely voice slipping into the demand.

Merlin looks up at him sharply as if in surprise. "Return?" he repeats, voice quavering.

"Yes, of course, _Mer_lin."

"I didn't think, well," Merlin pauses, looks down at the ground. "I didn't think you'd want me to go back with you," he admits, so quiet Arthur barely catches what he says.

Arthur doesn't mean to be mad, or at least, he doesn't mean to show his anger, not now with Merlin so skittish still, but he can't quite stop the low growl that escapes him at Merlin's words. Merlin hears it too, and shrinks away.

"Merlin, enough. Of course you're coming back with me, and when we arrive we're going to have a long talk about your magic and how you've lied to me for several years. And then after that you'll be polishing my boots and sharpening my sword as usual and not a word of any of this will be spoken to anyone, do you understand?"

Arthur begins his little speech slowly, as if speaking to a child, but as he reaches the end he starts to raise his voice and speaks faster so that his final question is really a shout.

Merlin is looking at him with wide, startled eyes, and Arthur takes a moment to appreciate how very blue Merlin's eyes are, especially as the glisten with the wetness of a few unshed tears. He isn't sure if Merlin is surprised by his declaration or by the shouting, but decides it doesn't matter because either way Merlin nods his head in silent agreement.

And then, because Merlin never could keep his mouth shut when he needed to, he starts to speak again in a quiet voice.

"But what about your father?"

Arthur throws his hands up in despair, letting out a huff of annoyance.

"How many times do I have to tell you? No one is going to hear of this and no one is going to kill you, or imprison you, or anything like that! You mean too much to me…" he starts, but trailed off before finishing what it was he had been planning to say.

"What?" Merlin asked, his face open and hopeful as he took in Arthur's words and all that they meant. "Thank you, Arthur. I can't tell you what this means. And I swear, I'll tell you everything, what ever you want to know."

Arthur smiles ruefully at his manservant's eagerness to please, walks over to him and ruffles his hair.

"Let's go home, Merlin."


	2. Sequel

For all of you who are following this fic, I posted a SEQUEL that will have a few more chapters here:

s/10534679/1/Stories-aren-t-Always-Fiction

Enjoy!


End file.
